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CHAPTER 15

Corbett sat back at his desk with his cup of coffee in his hands while he finished his reports for the case. Little by little, he worked the story that he was supposed to tell into the reports, painting a picture of a young teenage girl who decided to try C for the first time becoming homicidal and killing her friends. He worked in the lab results and added them to the evidentiary files along with the reports from the first crime scene unit who matched the girl's paw prints to those found on the knife. When he finished, he started looking back over the narratives, making sure that everything added up and that he wasn't leaving anything out that the magistrate might find fault with.

Through the whole thing, he couldn't find a way to make his conscience stop berating him for what he was doing. It sat there in the back of his mind, pulling and tugging and trying to get his attention. Try as he might to ignore it, he just couldn't and every time that he looked up from his writing, he saw his daughter's picture on the corner of his desk, and the picture of him, his wife, and his daughter all in the frame from a vacation taken the year before sitting on the edge of the desk next to the first. They stared at him accusingly, the innocent and happy smiles looking out at him through the glass of the frames boring into his soul.

Finally, he stopped typing and sat back, staring at those pictures. What would he do if it was his daughter involved here? The Kincaid girl didn't know anything about what was going on behind the scenes, and she didn't remember anything that had happened through the entire night. And now, forces beyond her control were railroading her down the system with not a care in the world for her or her family.

He growled softly in his throat and pulled his coat from the chair he was sitting in. "Anyone needs me, I'm out on an interview," he told Sylvester, who was still sitting at his desk, typing studiously away at some report or another.

Sylvester raised a hand and waved lightly before he turned his head to look at Corbett. "Enjoy, inspector."

Corbett didn't know what he expected in response from the younger investigator. From the way that he was feeling about himself at the moment, he wouldn't have blinked an eye if the other man had turned in his chair, raised his finger into the air pointed at him and damned him to an eternity of torment for what he was doing. But that's pretty damn stupid, Corbett, he thought, It's not like anyone knows what's going on.

Lewis had his goons really high up through the police hierarchy, but he couldn't have gotten to everyone. There was a pretty good chance that a new investigator like Sylvester wasn't on the senator's payroll.

Corbett nodded and walked out the door to the car. He had someplace he had to visit. If he did what the senator wanted him to do, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't take at least this one little bit of effort. He was going to talk to the girl's parents.

---

The house was what you'd expect from the neighborhood, a quiet and tidy little two-story cottage on a decently sized lot. There was a well-kept yard out front with a flower box full of blooming flowers outside the front door. Corbett pulled up in front, and sat in the car, looking at the front door of the house, expecting any minute for it to open and for the distraught parents of the Kincaid girl to come rushing out after him.

He wouldn't blame them in the slightest if they did, but they didn't know what was going on any more than the girl did. In fact, they probably knew even less.

Minutes passed as he sat in the car just looking at the door. Nothing that he could say to himself would make him feel any better about what he was doing, and there was still the ongoing line in the back of his head that was trying to find a way out. What would he do if it was his family? Would he want to know what was going on?

He took a breath and finally stepped out of his car and walked up the driveway to the door. He raised his hand and knocked heavily, noting how quiet the neighborhood was when his knocking echoed both through the house and down the street. Then the sound faded and there silence again.

After a moment, he heard the rhythmic thump of footsteps approaching the other side of the door and it opened with a large, imposing figure standing behind it.

The tiger that stood there was several inches taller than Corbett and he was dressed in casual clothes, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were rumpled and worn, and as Corbett looked up into the tiger's face, he could see that the look of the clothing was matched by the look in the tiger's eyes. They had dark, puffy marks beneath them and it looked as if the man hadn't slept for days.

Corbett couldn't speak for a moment, caught by the look of worry and anxiety on the man's face, and he couldn't find any words that seemed adequate for what was going on .

"Mister Kincaid?" he finally asked.

"Yes," the tiger answered, "I'm Jeremy Kincaid." There was something flat in his voice, and Corbett could hardly blame him. The events of the previous day had to have taken their toll on the man.

"I'm Inspector Corbett. I'm the investigator assigned to your daughter's case."

The tiger looked down his nose at the wolf and something filtered into his face. For a moment, the look that shone down to the wolf was one of pure hatred and malice, but it was quickly controlled after Kincaid blinked.

"What do you need, inspector?" he asked. The tone was clearly hopeful. The man was hoping that Corbett was here to try to help his daughter out of the mess she was in. Corbett wished that it were true instead of the other way around.

"May I speak with you and your wife for a bit? I have some questions."

"I thought that you people never talked to the accused's family," Kincaid growled, suspicion high in his voice.

"Normally, we don't, but this case is kind of an exception," Corbett said.

Kincaid stepped back from the door and opened it wider for the inspector with a half-hearted gesture that said 'come in,' then turned on his heels and walked down the hallway. From the look on the man's frame, Corbett could tell that he wouldn't care if he left the door hanging wide open, but when he stepped inside, he closed the heavy thing behind him. It made less sound than it should, Corbett mused. It should have been the ominous closing of a heavy oaken door, or perhaps the slamming of the door on a dungeon.

He followed Kincaid down the hallway to a large living room, tastefully furnished with enough seating that it was clear the Kincaids entertained occasionally. Sitting on the beige overstuffed couch was a smaller female white tiger. There were stains on the fur under her eyes, and she was turned to look out the window to the back yard, so Corbett caught her face in profile. It made him stop for a moment at the look of pure loss and hopelessness on her face.

He stood just inside the doorway and looked around the rest of the room, wanting to see something else besides the look on Ms. Kincaid's face.

All around the room were framed pictures of the family. Corbett could recognize Caitlin's mother and father, and Caitlin herself in some of the photos, along with Caitlin's older sister. The information he'd gotten at the beginning of the case had said that she had one sister who was away at school. From the look of the pictures, Caitlin and her sister were quite close. In some of the other pictures, Caitlin stood with Amanda Brighton, smiling brightly and happily.

He crossed to what looked like the most recent family portrait and stared at the picture for a moment, seeing the eyes of his own family looking out at him, and again he felt the crushing, guilt-laden accusatory stare and felt the condemnation in his soul.

He closed his eyes and turned back around to face the Kincaids. Mister Kincaid was sitting on the couch next to his wife with his arm wrapped around her. Neither one spoke, and she just continued to look out the window to the yard. Mr. Kincaid gestured to a big chair across the coffee table, inviting him rather grudgingly to take a seat.

When Corbett sat down, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked across at the distraught family. "Is that Caitlin's sister there in that picture?" he asked. He realized that it was the first time that he'd ever thought of the Kincaid girl as something more than just 'the Kincaid girl.' He didn't like to think of his perpetrators in terms that made them more human. For the most part, they weren't like the rest of society, and they didn't deserve to be thought of as people. At least that's what his mentor had taught him.

"Yeah," Jeremy answered. "That's Sarah. She's coming home tomorrow for..." The tiger's voice broke and he bowed his head, not able to finish the sentence.

Corbett nodded. "I have a few questions for you both, if you don't mind talking with me for a few minutes."

Jeremy lifted his head and stared at the inspector with suspicion clear on his face. "Do I need to have a lawyer, inspector?"

Corbett shook his head. "Mister Kincaid, my investigation is mostly complete. I just have a couple of questions. There's not a lot you could say that would make your daughter's situation worse." He had to be honest about at least that part. "She's in really serious trouble."

Kincaid nodded and hugged his wife a little closer. The smaller lady had begun sobbing when Corbett had admitted that Caitlin was in trouble. Corbett wanted nothing more than to stand up, walk across the table and comfort her, but there was not comfort to be offered.

Corbett could only watch as Jeremy Kincaid offered what support he could to the sobbing woman and as he watched, something shifted inside and he felt tears welling up in his own eyes. He blinked a few times, but it didn't help. What he was doing was wrong and there wasn't any way that he could make it right. If he did this, he'd never look at himself in the mirror again, and there would be no way that he could even live with himself.

He couldn't be heartless enough to sit and watch the pain and suffering of this family. They likely didn't know what was on the line for her daughter. The government kept the details of what happened to the condemned rather sketchy, but the threat was there. Generally only the people in the prisons and the wolves on the police force had any idea what the condemned went through. How much worse for them if they knew, but their pain was real enough for him.

He tried in vain to stop the tears from flowing down his face and he stood and started walking to the door. "Please forgive me, Mister Kincaid. I shouldn't have come."

Jeremy stood and followed after Corbett, silent until they got to the front door. The big tiger put a hand on the door to keep Corbett from opening it while he looked intently down at the wolf. "You came by for a reason, inspector. Tell me why."

Corbett stood there with his hand on the door knob and his head turned away from Kincaid, and then finally looked up in to the tiger's eyes. Kincaid looked shocked at the tears there, and his eyes softened a little.

"I can't tell you everything, Mister Kincaid," he said, "but I don't think your daughter is guilty."

Kincaid frowned, "You're the investigator on the case. If you don't think she's guilty, then she'll be coming home, right?"

"No," Corbett admitted with a sigh. "All the evidence that we've found says that she's guilty."

Corbett could see the confusion in Kincaid's face and he continued. "Look, I can't tell you what's going on right now, but I'm really working on figuring out what happened that night, and if your daughter really isn't guilty, then I'll do everything I can to get her back to you."

There was conviction in his voice as he said that, and he knew that he had just crossed a line that would not end well for him, but he couldn't sit around and let the girl be railroaded down the tracks to her death. There was no way for him to reconcile that with the rest of his integrity. No matter what it cost him, he'd find a way to get Caitlin home.

Kincaid took his hand off the door and opened it for the inspector. There was still a look of confusion in his eyes, but he nodded. "Thank you, inspector."

Corbett said nothing. There wasn't anything he could say, so he nodded and then turned and walked out the door.

He retrieved his tablet from his pocket as he walked and it was on and opened to the case file by the time he was sitting in the car. He planned on taking a moment to get all his facts in order before he moved on, but a message appeared on the screen that made his heart sink straight to the leather seat of the car.

Corbett -

Saw your case file hadn't been submitted for the Kincaid case, so I got it all uploaded for you. Magistrate says trial tomorrow afternoon. He wants this thing done and over with so they're bumping your case to the head of the line. Louie sends his regards.

-CPT Mitchell.

Corbett could only stare in shock at the note from the captain. He'd left the case file open on his computer in the station, and Mitchell must have taken it off his computer even though he hadn't uploaded it. Bile rose in his throat as he realized that it was the file that basically had Kincaid's guilt stamped all across the pages in big, bold letters.

They were going to use that case file at the trial tomorrow. And there was no way that the magistrate would find any other verdict than the one the senator wanted.

Corbett slid the tablet into its holder while a new determination rose on his face. It meant he had less than seven days to figure out how to get Caitlin home to her family.